


Ringing Clear

by Elton_Hercules_John



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aging, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Deaf Character, Disabled Character, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Slightly - Freeform, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elton_Hercules_John/pseuds/Elton_Hercules_John
Summary: Over the past 500 years, Aziraphale had noticed that his hearing was changing. At first it had been subtle, missing little snippets of conversation, and then people turned muffled, their words mumbling together to Aziraphale, like their speech was foggy mist.At age 6052, Aziraphale lost his hearing for good.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 149





	Ringing Clear

After living in a human body for over 6000 years, certain parts of it started to break down. This could be quite annoying for an angel inhabiting the body, as angels were always at the standard of perfection. 

However, humans were never perfect. As they aged, their hips ached, their bones became brittle, their eyesight went, and then their hearing. They'd shuffle around their bungalows, wearing slippers and braces, waiting for their carer to come over and spend some time with them. 

Thankfully, Aziraphale wasn't that bad yet. 

However, over the past 500 years, he had noticed that his hearing was changing. At first it had been subtle, missing little snippets of conversation, and then people turned muffled, their words mumbling together to Aziraphale, like their speech was foggy mist. 

At age 6052, Aziraphale lost his hearing for good. 

He knew it had been coming for quite some time now, and it certainly didn't suddenly stop, but it was still quite a shock to him. He could no longer listen to his favourite records in the shop, yet if he held his hand over the gramophone's speaker, he could feel the vibrations of the music through his fingers. The more he did that, the more he learned to hear music by touch. 

And then, of course, there was the problem of hearing people and having conversations with them. He learned to read lips incredibly quickly, in just a few hours. It was quite easy, after 6052 years of hearing and watching people speak. However, being deaf gave him an advantage. If he was working in the bookshop and someone wanted his attention, he would just hum away to himself and ignore them, despite seeing them in his peripheral vision. He only really spoke if they tapped his shoulder or stepped out in front of him, in which case he would pull out the "Oh, sorry, my dear. I didn't hear you there. I'm deaf." card, which always made people feel quite embarrassed about all the rude things they had been saying while they thought Aziraphale was ignoring them. 

One evening, Aziraphale learned British sign language. Once he had mastered that, he went on and learned American sign language, then makaton, then Irish sign language. Best to cover a few bases, in case anyone from another country used sign language and came into the shop. 

After becoming deaf, Aziraphale had realised how hard it was for people with disabilities like his own, and promptly put in an order with his supplier for BSL dictionaries, and braille versions of books for any blind customers. Not that he'd let them buy the books, but they were allowed to read in his shop as much as they liked. 

However, there was a slight problem with Aziraphale's new condition. 

He didn't know how to tell Crowley. 

He knew it was stupid, he used the "I'm deaf" excuse around customers every day, yet he couldn't bring himself to say it in front of Crowley. He thought that his friend may judge him, may say "Listen, you're an angel. Why don't you just fix your hearing? Miracle it better?"

Aziraphale could do that, of course, but he wasn't going to. He had had this body for 6052 years, and he was going to let it have a little wear and tear, just as humans did. Although, of course, no human ever lived as long as he had. He never brought up Crowley's pain that he still occasionally suffered from The Fall, about how he could 'miracle it better'. 

Aziraphale had tried telling Crowley that he was deaf on five separate occasions. Three times at the Ritz, once in the bookshop, once out in St James's Park. Yet, every time he tried to tell Crowley, something stopped him. He hesitated, then changed the subject and talked about something light hearted instead. He didn't want to tell Crowley. Being deaf was a life changing thing. He didn't want to upset the demon. 

However, he couldn't live the rest of his life without Crowley knowing. He could only keep the "What was that? I can't hear you over the traffic." rouse up for so long. So, for the fourth time, he and Crowley were sat in the Ritz, Aziraphale eating his way through some trifle while Crowley swirled his wine around in the glass. 

"Mm, Crowley-" Aziraphale pressed his napkin into the corners of his mouth, then glanced up at the demon. "How are you nowadays, truly? How's your… Transport?" The angel nodded at Crowley's chest. "All in working order, yes? Tip top shape?" 

"Yeah, mostly." Crowley shrugged. 'My pain is so bad that I can't get out of bed some mornings.' went unsaid. He took a sip of his wine, then looked over Aziraphale. He looked alright on the surface. "You?" 

"Um, I could say the same about myself, truthfully. I am mostly alright." Aziraphale smiled slightly, then stabbed at his trifle, scooping up a piece of cream. "Starting to feel it slightly, to be quite honest. Old age catches up to us all." He popped the spoonful of cream in his mouth. 

"Pffft. Angel, you're only 6000. You're not old." Behind his glasses, Crowley rolled his eyes. Across the table, Aziraphale blushed. He was 6052, thank you very much. "So. What's wrong, eh?" 

"Well, I… It's been coming on for quite some time, now. 500 years, give or take." Aziraphale patted the sides of his mouth with the napkin, then placed the spoon down. "Um. Well- I've tried to tell you quite a few times, but I've always backed out. I'm scared to tell you. To tell you that I'm-"

"Deaf? I've known for months, Aziraphale." Crowley chuckled at the flabbergasted look on Aziraphale's face. 

"How?! Nobody in my shop has ever figured it out, Ever. Without me telling them, of course." Aziraphale pushed his half finished plate away from himself. "How did you know? Not even my regulars knew." 

"Well, angel." Crowley leaned back, swinging on his chair as he watched Aziraphale. "When you spend 6000 years round a guy off and on, you learn what he's like. How he's like. So, a couple months ago, you started slurring your words together. Just the tiniest bit. Like they weren't sitting right in your mouth. Your regulars don't know you well enough to notice. At first, I thought 'Oh, he's just drunk on that Cabernet de Château de Whatever de Fuck', then I realised it was something you just… Did, now." Crowley shrugged. "Couple that with you staring at my lips, touching speakers to feel the music, and how you never hear me calling for you unless I'm in front of you… It's pretty bloody obvious." 

"That is… Brilliant." Aziraphale murmured in awe. "I had no idea you were so observant… Do you mind, then? That I am deaf? I don't plan on miracling it away." 

"I'm fine with it, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Crowley stopped his chair swinging to instead lean forwards on the table, head in his hands. 

"Oh, I don't know… I was worried you'd get angry at me for not fixing it." Aziraphale mumbled, lightly ghosting his fingertip around the rim of his wine glass, making it hum and sing under his finger. He could feel the vibrations, but couldn't decipher the pitch. "I know it's silly, really… B-But you know me, worrying about the insignificant things…" 

"Yeah." Crowley tutted, then held his hand up for the bill from a passing waiter. "I'll get this one, angel. My treat for you…" Crowley sighed and internally cringed. "For you being brave." 

"Really…? I could pay, or we could half it. I don't mind. And it's hardly being brave, to tell you the truth, I was absolutely terrified." Aziraphale's soft cheeks went a warm pink tone. It wasn't missed by Crowley. "I'll get the bill. I invited you out here, anyways." 

"Don't be stupid, Aziraphale. It's my turn to pay." Crowley snapped his fingers, and a waiter literally popped into existence beside the table. "Have you got my bill yet? And a couple of those After Eights, if you don't mind." Crowley knew how much Aziraphale loved the thin minty chocolates. 

As if by magic, the bill popped into Crowley's hand and the chocolate into Aziraphale's. Crowley looked over the bill, then summoned the exact amount of money, plus a 20% tip. Demons may be evil, sometimes savages, but they still always tipped their waiters. It was their only saving grace. 

"Right, angel. Ready to go?" Crowley said, but realised that Aziraphale was staring at the crystal chandelier above them as he nibbled on a piece of chocolate, completely in his own world. Crowley tapped his hand, making Aziraphale jump and look at him. "I said, are you ready to go?"

"Oh! Um, yes. My apologies. That is such a pretty chandelier, isn't it? I've never noticed it before… Just gorgeous." Aziraphale cooed, and Crowley wrinkled his nose. To him, it was just a boring light fitting that had the possibility to fall dramatically onto anyone sitting below it. With that thought in mind, Crowley took Aziraphale's arm and led him out of the way. 

"Where do you wanna go now? Your place or mine?" 

"The bookshop, please. Your apartment is always so cold, it gives me the goosebumps." Aziraphale mimed shivering, something he had picked up after learning sign language. He would sign as he spoke. "My place, however, is warm and cosy and comfortable. With old sofas well-sat in and hand-knitted blankets and the smell of old books." 

"Alright, love. We'll go to yours." Crowley led Aziraphale to the Bentley, knowing that he'd finally be able to listen to The Velvet Underground without Aziraphale complaining about him playing 'beebop' on the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna talk to me about any of my fics, I'm @elton-hercules-john on tumblr :)  
> Likes, comments, and kudos are very much appreciated ❤️❤️❤️


End file.
